


Don't Die So Far From The Sea

by Seenik



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 15:17:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18875803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seenik/pseuds/Seenik
Summary: Yara receives news of Theon's death and reflects.





	Don't Die So Far From The Sea

They'd never allowed a maester on Pyke, so the dark words had probably changed through ten hands by the time the scroll made its way to Yara.

 

_ Theon was slain in the Battle of Winterfell. _

 

There were more words accompanying that, but that was the only bit that mattered. She'd hardly had time to celebrate Euron's defeat in King's landing, no time at all to plan a fleet voyage to escort her brother home from his time with the wolves, now that the seas were safe again. Truth be told, she knew he'd meant to die in that wretched, cold wasteland, but having it prove true hurt all the same.

 

She hadn't been this drunk since she’d lost the Kingsmoot, only then she'd had Theon to get her back to form when the time came. Her eyes stung from the memory of him, his sullen face, his dull words. She should have commanded him to stay. “I have no other family,” he'd told her once, but now he lay burned in Winterfell, instead of given to the Drowned God, as was befit a true son of the Iron Islands. He'd died defending the crippled Stark boy, whether she was angry or jealous in knowing this, Yara could not say.

 

_ She _ was his family, and the Starks had been robbing her of him for most of her life. They didn't even have the decency to ask, to inquire about how his people, his  _ real _ family would like for him to be honored. She supposed with people like that, it's no wonder her brother grew into such a lickspittle of a man. Flashes of cruel japes directed at him flooded her mind, and she wondered if he’d known just how much she loved him, even if she'd never been one for sweet words.

  
Her tankard was empty, and the sun nearly set by the time she decided that she had to go and claim him from the wolves, one last time. As she put the scroll into the candle flame, and watched the parchment bend and curl, she read the words ‘ _ He was a good and loyal man’ _ once more, as they disappeared forever.


End file.
